Child of Darkness
by Mana1
Summary: After the battle against Dark Star, Valgaav is born into his new life, and finds himself facing the memories of his past incarnation. *Update: Current Status 05/09/02*
1. Yearning Child

Child of Darkness Ch. 1 Child of Darkness Chapter One: Yearning Child By [Amanda Barton][1]

~~~~~

Filia hastily dashed around her mace and pottery shop, trying to avoid stepping on any of the merchandise in her frantic hustle. She swiftly dropped to the floor at the edge of the left wall, her pink dress ruffling up from the pressure of the air, revealing her golden tail from beneath it. The tip of it, shaped like a heart, twitched in irritation as she searched around the dusty boxes on the floor, coughing as a cloud of dust arose from them. She ducked her head down just below a wooden shelf holding a variety of powerful maces that she had made herself to sell. She hadn't cleaned in the corners beneath the display shelves since she bought the shop, and now she wished she had. A patch of dirt smudged across her face, dust spilling into her golden blonde hair. 

She let out a fierce sneeze as she thrust out her arm, reaching for a small box hidden behind all of the other larger boxes and cases. With a last striving effort, her white-gloved hand grasped the edge of it and pulled it out onto the main floor. Filia gave an exhausted sigh as she set the small box on her lap, tracking dirt onto her white cloak. She wiped her forehead with the back of her glove, the dust rubbing off onto her cheek, making her face even dirtier than it already was.

"Oneesan, please hurry! I don't know what to do!" Her employee and friend, Jiras, could be heard frantically yelling from behind the yellow shop curtain towards the back of the store. Her home was built as part of the shop, not fancy or big, but very conveniently placed. She was able to work and relax freely with both being so close together. She moaned as she pulled herself up from the ground and dashed behind the curtain, clutching the box tightly to her chest. She scurried in, seeing Jiras and her other companion, Grabos, struggling with nervousness as the ancient baby dragon howled and screeched beneath Jiras's hold. She giggled cheerfully, approaching them with a grin.

"You're doing fine, Jiras-san. Just keep ahold of him for another quick minute, okay?" She strolled past them and into the kitchen, not waiting for either one to reply, mainly because she knew they would just moan and whine more than they already were. Filia carefully set down the box on the counter, fumbling to open it in her haste. She lifted out a long glass baby-bottle, smiling pleasantly. She hastily opened the cupboard, grabbed a can of milk mix, and set it beside the bottle. Taking out a silver spoon, she accurately measured the correct amount of powder into the bottle with gleaming satisfaction. Putting the can back in its appointed place, Filia lifted the tea pot of half-boiling water from the stove and poured it into the bottle until it was filled. Switching the stove off and putting the teapot back down, she screwed the cap tightly onto the bottle and hustled back out into the living room.

"Oneesan, please! He keeps growling at me! I think he's angry!" Jiras pouted, his hands shivering with fear from around the newborn dragon. Filia laughed again and sat down beside him on the comfortable couch. Jiras gently handed the baby to his "Big Sister" and jerked his hands away from it, horrified. The little thing only curiously stretched its neck out towards him, crooning with its golden eyes gleaming. Filia stroked her hands soothingly over his gleaming black scales with a feather touch that was as comforting as that of a mother's. 

"He's not angry, silly Jiras-san! Baby dragons can't cry like human babies do, so they have to growl or hiss to show that they want something. Oh, isn't he just the sweetest little thing you ever laid your eyes on? Good, Valteria, good! Look at what Filia brought for you!" she chirped in a cute voice that made Grabos and Jiras shrug with misunderstanding. Filia revealed the bottle to the child from beneath her cloak and offered it to the newborn with a warm smile. Valteria crooned with enjoyment as he sank his small dagger-like fangs into the cap and sucked the milk down diligently. Filia kept a strong hold around it, making sure the baby didn't pull it away from her, struggling against its strength. Jiras and Grabos softened a tad from their nervousness as they watched the tiny dragon gulp down the milk, and finally each stroked his neck as he drank, feeling more relaxed and familiar with the baby now. After all, it was the child that they had waited for to hatch for so long.

"Valgaav-sama, I can't believe that's really you," Grabos said wearily, his eyes never leaving his "Master." Jiras nodded in agreement as he reached over and patted Valteria on the head platonically. It crooned, squinting up its eyes in joy, rubbing against Jiras's hand. The red fox laughed cheerfully, watching as Filia finally withdrew the empty bottle from Valteria's mouth and let him lie down on her dirty dress. The dragon yawned, curling its long tail around its small body, golden eyes shutting as it sank its sharp claws into Filia's cloak. 

"Ah, tired already? Sleep soundly my Valteria... Good," she whispered in a gentle voice, wrapping her arms around the sleeping dragon lovingly. She swiftly rocked him back and forth with care, nearly drifting herself off to sleep with her own movement. Jiras and Grabos leaned back on the couch, watching their newly born master fall into his first sleep.

~~~~~

I wish I could have known that something like this would happen before I did it. I suppose it really doesn't matter anymore... Gaav-sama is dead... If I die now, he will already be waiting for me within the Sea of Chaos. And yet, no matter how long I struggle to clear it from my mind, I cannot purge myself of my past regrets... My regret for having allowed my master to go off to defeat Lina Inverse alone. I want to see her dead... to see her blood staining the very ground that I am standing on... She deserves to die. She who took the one thing in life that mattered to me and vanquished it in a single blow... And still I do not understand how it is that one normal girl was able to destroy my Gaav-sama.

"Normal girl?" Well, I suppose not... What was she? Her magical powers far exceeded those of a human. She was able to take in the spiritual force of the Lord of Nightmares and use it to her advantage. She was able to destroy Ruby Eye Shabranigdu, the Hellmaster Phibrizo, and my Gaav-sama single-handedly. Her only affections were extended to a man she pretended to care nothing for... Her eyes were as red as blood. Perhaps I have clouded judgment, perhaps my own flame of revenge has taken over me, but if my predictions are right, then Lina would be a part of the Dark Lord Shabranigdu. If he was sealed behind the eyes of a human after he was slain by Cephied, why not her as well?

She is the devil, that Lina... A human body concealing the soul of a Mazoku within, yearning for release from both sides. Lina must have Mazoku blood within her somewhere... Why else would only she receive this overwhelming power? Why else would the Lord of Nightmares grant her the ability to use the Giga Slave? Why else would Xellass Metallium have her priest and general, Xelloss, follow behind her like a magnet? I have already heard that her sister is working under Cephied, one of the most powerful Shinzokus. And if I'm correct, then Lina and Luna are just the products of Shabranigdu and Cephied's revenge on each other, still battling each other in human forms. It will only be a matter of time before Lina is drawn into the darkness of the Mazoku.

But none of that matters now... 

Gaav-sama, I'm so sorry about this... I will probably be joining you soon... If only revenge hadn't possessed me after your death... I wouldn't have tried to awaken Dark Star like this. Soon... very soon his mind will gnaw away at my soul until he has taken complete control over me. I'll be like a puppet on unwilling strings. Forgive me for never being able to avenge you, Master...

~~~~~

Filia sat silently at the kitchen table, fumbling with the teacup in front of her, sighing. There was a steaming kettle sitting on the counter with a container holding many different flavors of tea next to it. She watched the flavor spreading out in the hot water, her expression emotionless. She continually stirred the hot liquid with a silver spoon, never once picking it up to drink. For some reason she just didn't feel thirsty anymore, as she had been when she had awoken from her vivid sleep. She gazed out the window at the drifting darkness of night, the light of the stars dim against it. The moon was hardly in sight, clouded in shadows. It must have been late into the night already, though she had just now noticed, being too wrapped up within her own painful memories. How long had it been since she defeated the one man she cared so much for? It hurt not being able to remember him... And it hurt even more when she /_was_/ able to remember him... 

"Hey, can't sleep?" Filia sprang up, startled as Jiras quietly crept into the kitchen. "I had a pretty gruesome dream... Don't think I can sleep now," he whispered as he sat down beside her at the table. She broke a smile, rising from her chair to retrieve a glass for him, filling it with the boiling water and setting his favorite flavor of tea in it. Returning to the table, she offered it to him, smiling weakly. He took it with a grin.

"I don't know why, but I can't seem to sleep either... I've just been sitting out here thinking." She took a small sip from her tea, trying to hide her face from her friend, hoping he couldn't see her eyes. She was on the brink of tears now, and even she hardly knew why.

"Thinking about Valgaav-sama?"

"Yes..."

"It hurts now that he's gone... But now he can have a new life; he can start over fresh! I hate seeing you like this, Oneesan. It wasn't your fault or anyone else's but his own for doing what he did. But in the end he still did the right thing by letting you kill him to destroy Dark Star..." Jiras stopped wearily, unsure whether he should say what he was about to. Blurting it out anyway, he asked in a serious voice, "Did you love Valgaav-sama, Oneesan?" 

"'Love?'" she repeated softly, sighing as she laid down her head on the table, hiding her face within her arms. "Jiras-san, it was my own tribe that was responsible for the terror that gripped him after the battles of the ancient war. He wouldn't have even known Maryuoh Gaav if the Gold Dragons hadn't started that silly war... And I regret that... I suppose that I saw him as something more than our enemy. I saw him as a child... Because he had lost his true self after becoming part Mazoku so long ago... I was attached to him with guilt, not love. I suppose that I'll love him now that he is reborn as my own, but that's different..." Tears began to roll over her cheeks, and she began to quietly sob, still hiding herself from Jiras, ashamed. 

"Oneesan... None of that was your fault..."

   [1]: mailto:mana@rmci.net



	2. Helpless Child

Child of Darkness Ch. 2 Child of Darkness Chapter Two: Helpless Child By [Amanda Barton][1]

~~~~~

Ningen, Mazoku, Shinzoku... Anything... anyone that can hear me, please... I don't want to die now!

I felt the eyes of the Golden Dragons in the air upon me; the monstrous slits of pleasurable emerald satisfied with my suffering. They flew away to join with the other members of their Karyuoh tribe, assuming me dead and glad of it. I wished I had been dead then as well, but they had just left me there. Left me there alone with nowhere else to go. 

Why didn't the bastards just kill me? Did they enjoy seeing this pain? Are they really just as evil as the Mazoku? I suppose they are... Killing my friends and family, banishing them to the afterlife. I don't want to be alone... I fear solitude... We had lived together in peace for so long... Why should death be bestowed upon us simply because we didn't want to take sides in that silly war against the Mazoku? Why couldn't we just have gone on like we had? 

I don't want to have to endure this anymore...

Scars ran all over my back and chest, as well as over my arms and on my cheeks. Blood trickled from my lips and mouth, making me shiver even in the intense heat from the flaming sun above me. The rays of its light burned down on my wounds, making them sting ever so slightly, like a tiny flicker of pain that one would feel after being bitten by some kind of fanged creature.

I tried to sit up on the sand dune, using all the power I had left within my arms to do it. I gritted my teeth against the razor numbing pain sizzling down my chest and legs, letting out a soft groan that should have been a scream to alleviate myself. I was finally able to crack my bones into place and move into a more comfortable position. But I didn't even have the strength to scream... All I could do now was sit and wait, isolated from all the ones I cared so dearly for, wrapped in my own misery and loneliness until I too died and joined my kin. 

Ningen, Mazoku, Shinzoku... Anyone that can hear me, please... Don't let me die now...

But it was a Mazoku who answered my silent pleading.

Through the blood dripping down from the bangs of my aquamarine hair, I saw a tempest of sand arise within the dangerously forceful wind passing by. Trying to focus on my sight, which was blurred so badly that every object around me looked like some kind of abstract painting, I watched the torrent of air form into a spiral, and then I could I faintly make out a figure slowly approaching me from within that spiral.

I tried desperately to concentrate on anything but the hurting, busying myself with the task of observing the stranger through my unclear vision. Everything was spinning around me, making me dizzy, but I could finally see some of the details of the one before me.

His expression, that twisted, malicious smile, was one I will never in all my days forget. He had long red hair that flowed to his feet with a long orange overcoat covering him. His eyes were a shade of dark midnight blue in a slanted, almost sadistic look. A sword was securely held across his back, long in its hilt. He was certainly strange-looking, very mysterious and tall. I wasn't sure what to think until I felt his magical aura smash into my own. Not human, not dragon, but Mazoku...

"Hey, you there, alive?" His voice was gruff and hoarse, thrumming like a low bass in his throat. 

I actually smirked at him, smiling slightly. I don't know why; perhaps it was just my own hidden loathing within me that snapped my subconscious into the look I extended to him... 

"You Mazoku have come to kill us too?" It came as a surprise to myself that I could still speak in my pathetic condition. It still aggrieved me, however, sending shocks of pain down my throat. 

"Seems the Karyuoh have already done enough, wouldn't you agree?" He examined me carefully, taking in my details as I had him, seeming to be in deep contemplation. I suppose I didn't mind his staring only because I just barely noticed it... I couldn't think about anything but all of the injuries spread throughout my powerless body, like a rag doll that had been thrown around and played with for too long. "Amazing that you survived! The rest of the Mazoku were hoping that the Golds would take care of all of ya for us."

"I expected that... Mazoku and Ryozoku are opposing tribes... You wanted us to die just as much as the fucking Golds..." I choked on those words, coughing up more blood, the taste as sickening as that of vomit. I couldn't stop myself from blurting out every thought, every emotion that whirled through my mind, not even thinking before I spit them out, but I didn't care... I was going to die. Nothing mattered anymore... But the Mazoku seemed amused watching me...

"It really is amazing that you survived, but it looks like you won't last for long." 

Ha! For once there /_was_/ truth in a Mazoku's words. I probably looked so piteous, so helpless, especially in the eyes of a monster. But I still had pride of my own. Pride that I had been taught as a dragonling, and it was the duty of our clan. And as such, I found it my obligation to try to prove this devil wrong by attempting to transform into my dragon form, to reveal to him the blood of my origin. If I was going to die, I wanted it to truly be as a dragon. But attempting to do so just made it worse. Even using every ounce of force and potency left within me, I could just barely sprout my wings and change my arms into their other shape. 

I could feel that familiar flutter of warmth inside of me as my wings spread out from each of my shoulder blades. It felt oddly pleasurable to have them, the feathers as soft and intimate as any other touch could be. I treasured those wings, wings that were as black and grim as that of the night.

But the metamorphosing of the arms was a constant reminder of the true beast that lay inside of me. The muscles bulged, throbbing with such intensity that it was nearly impossible to fixate on anything else, taking away that one endearing feeling of having my wings. For now these were the only two things I could manage... After that though, the wounds stung like the flames of hell itself, making me scream so harshly that it forced my stomach up and gagged me into spitting up more blood. It hurt so much that I could have sworn that death had invited me into its door just then... But it didn't...

And I could feel the sensations fading away, sliding through my fingertips as my wings and arms reverted back into my weak human body, a body that I couldn't even bring myself to lift up to sit. I just had to lie there, drowning myself in every memory of my life that had brought me to despair, trying desperately to convince myself that death was the best way to end it all then. But I... I was so scared.

What was worse was that this Mazoku wasn't showing any indication of leaving. Just why /_had_/ he come? The only reason I could think of was that the Mazoku were extremely sadistic... And they were our opposing tribe. I suppose they would have loved to see us die, treasuring the moments as we fell out of the sky like flies, the arrows piercing our bodies. But still... I didn't want a Mazoku to watch my death... I hate them, the Mazoku... I was /_raised_/ to hate them. So, why did I ever...

"You have no power left in that pitiful body of yours, Valteria." He already knew my name? To this day I have yet to find out how he knew such things...

"Oh, it doesn't, does it? I've been watching you, Valteria. You have a tremendous dark light growing inside of you, one that can rival with one of my own kind. I'll give you another chance, a chance to finish all those things the Karyuoh took away from your kind by starting this war. Join me and be my recruit, and I will grant you power and a position in the Mazoku ranking." His words sliced into me even though I could scarcely hear him over the spinning headache pulsing through my brain, but somehow I understood him and was able to respond.

"And why would I want to be a Mazoku?"

"Well, you can always just sit here and die," he mused in a laughing voice. "I'm giving you the chance to start over with a new life as a Mazoku that will help you fulfill everything that you weren't able to in this life."

I wanted to ask him why he chose me of all people, but I knew my time was running short. I had to choose: to die here and keep my honor as an Ancient Dragon, or to live and betray them by joining our greatest enemy.

And I betrayed them... 

I slowly stood, ignoring the pain because I knew it would soon all be taken away. I wouldn't have to suffer from it anymore, and that too clouded the judgment of my decision. I limped to him, feeling too helpless to ever be of any use to a tribe like the Mazoku. But he chose me, and only me. 

Grabbing my bangs with a fierce grip, he stabbed his blade carelessly through my stomach... And I could feel everything drifting pleasurably away into an endless sea of black until a sharp pain forced my eyes open and a dark force surrounded me, making me scream from the overwhelming pressure. Something was growing on my head, palpitating harder and harder...

"Now you're one of us! Your name is now Valgaav!"

~~~~~

"Wake up, sleepy head! You're going to be late!" Filia called urgently as she opened the door to Valteria's room and scuttled in. Valteria lay on his back, breathing heavily in a deep sleep. "You don't want to make a bad impression and show up late for the first day of school, do you? Valteria-chan, I mean it! Get up right now!" She put her hands on her hips in annoyance as the child just rolled over onto his stomach and pulled his pillow over his ears, moaning now that she had awoken him. After thinking over the situation for a moment, she finally broke a grin to herself and began walking out of the small bedroom. "Fine. If you'd rather sleep, then Jiras-san, Grabos-san, and I will all eat breakfast without you!"

"Aww, Filia..." Valteria sat up slowly, giving a long yawn as Filia left the room, keenly giggling.

Morning sunlight poured in through the windows around his room, hurting his tired eyes as he stood up and dressed. Today was the first day that he was to attend the local school. It was unusual for dragonlings to be educated out of their homes. Back before the school was established, it was typical to be home-schooled by whomever the child's guardian was, or one of the elder dragon scholars. Valteria would have preferred it that way, but the officials of Dragon's Peak rather liked the idea of having all the dragonlings gathered together for social interaction with each other.

At any rate, Filia was making such a huge fuss over the whole mess that she actually had a special outfit laid out for him that she had sewn herself. A long-sleeved blue shirt with green pants and his brown boots. Although the colors didn't fit his tastes, he felt a kind of inner warmth fill him when the cloth met his flesh, a kind of endearing feeling that he knew must have been because Filia had put forth all of her effort to make it for him.

After thoroughly brushing his shoulder-length aquamarine hair, he emerged into the hallway, and finally to the kitchen where Filia stood over the stove in her white apron cooking breakfast while Grabos and Jiras sat at the table anxiously awaiting the meal that would soon be served. 

"Well, look at who finally decided to get out of bed!" Filia said in a laughing voice, just barely looking up from the pancakes she was preparing. The familiar scent drew him in, enticing him toward the table. "Did you sleep well?"

"Well, sort of... I had a scary dream..." Valteria sat down beside Grabos, who was smiling in that cheerful way he always did, Jiras's own smile an echo of his friends'. They were so much alike that it was startling. They could have passed for twins had they not been of two different races. 

"Getting your beauty sleep is important in your youth. Try not to lose it." Filia opened one of the cupboards, taking out a plate and stacking the bunch of finished pancakes onto it. After closing it, turning off the stove, and removing her white-laced apron, she returned to the table and set them down for her "family." She grinned at her foster son and sat down beside him. "Excited about school?" 

"Yep!" By the time he had answered, Jiras and Grabos had already gotten first grabs on the breakfast, hastily and sloppily eating the pancakes, maple syrup running from the corners of their mouths. 

Filia had always taught Valteria to be perfectly well mannered, proper, and polite since he was a dragonet, but "Uncle Jiras" and "Uncle Grabos" made it difficult to do so without their support in being good examples. Valteria didn't seem to notice them much however, and picked up Filia's ways of doing things above anyone else's, as quiet and low-tempered as any dragonling should be. Filia could still recall the days when she lashed out at any comment that displeased her, when she would stick out her tail, draw her mace from underneath her pink ruffled dress, and shout out threats that could have rivaled a Mazoku's. Had she not matured over the years to follow, heaven only knew how Valteria would turn out! 

After a breakfast of pancakes with butter and maple syrup, accompanied by a cup of tea, Filia helped Valteria prepare his small leather book bag with all the things he would need for class while Jiras and Grabos cleaned up the shop before opening. Filia blabbed endlessly about how he should behave in class, while at the same time re-brushing his hair and washing his face, insisting that there was still syrup on it. No one could tell that Filia wasn't a real mother, except for the fact that Valteria didn't resemble her, because she acted so much like one. And it wasn't as though she was acting like an actress in a play. The worries and motherly lectures came completely naturally, as though it were part of her subconscious. 

"Can you two watch the shop while I walk Valteria to school?" Filia asked wearily as she helped Valteria into his velvety blue cloak while putting on her own pink one. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Sure thing, Filia. Have a good day, Valteria-kun!" Grabos waved as the two approached the door, followed by Jiras, who was sitting behind the sale counter.

"I will! See you later Uncle Jiras, Uncle Grabos!" Valteria called over his shoulder as Filia led him out, keeping a firm grip on his hand as they proceeded out into the busy streets of the dragon village. 

~~~~~

The smells of the morning bakery were carried by the slight breeze passing by, spreading the magnificent scent into the air. Several townsfolk passed by, all greeting Filia with several "hellos" and "good mornings" of which she returned with the same radiance and warmth she always carried with her. Valteria wondered what it was about her that made her so alluring. Perhaps it was that gentle way she responded to everything around her, as though she had not another care in the world except for the well-being of others.

He gripped uneasily at her cloak when the villagers turned their attentions toward him. He tried his best to hide behind her, avoiding their curious gazes as much as possible. What was it that he despised about attention? All of the other younger dragons he had watched would walk the streets with their heads held high, their spirits held in a state of pure dignity. They were proud as well as haughty, carrying themselves with an otherworldly grace, doing whatever they could to attract the stares of those around them. Filia had always tried to discipline him into being the very same way. 

"You must hold pride in being what you are," she told him once. "We are of the dragons, and as such, we have our beauty apart from everything else in this world. So you must never look down, Valteria. Always keep your head held high in front of others. If you don't, it will be taken as a sign of unworthiness. Remember what the worth of your life is, Valteria-chan. Never forget it." 

But he always caught himself looking down no matter how many times her words thrummed through his head. And time and time again she would clasp her hand underneath his chin and lift it sternly up. He always followed the rules of the Ryuzoku as precisely as possible, but for some odd reason he couldn't bring himself to break the hateful habit of disdaining his own worth, because he had overheard all of the town gossip and...

Yes, that must be it. There was nothing special about his existence, and therefore being the focus of anything felt wrong to him. It made him nervous. He particularly would have liked to just blend in, to not be noticed. But Filia would never have it that way. She was far too intent on carrying out the traditions of the dragon race. But he was different from everyone else, always denying the cruel abnormalities about himself. After all, he'd never seen anyone else on Dragon's Peak with aquamarine hair, nor the dark light hidden within his golden eyes. 

"Why is everyone always staring at me, Filia?" he recalled asking her when he was still a dragonet, gripping her hand tightly in fear when every face lining the town streets turned to look at him. "Is there something wrong with me?" 

He detached himself from the fluttering memories as she led him up a steep hill, supporting him so he wouldn't stumble on the rocks. At the top, a large stone building could be seen with dozens of dragonlings swarming around it like bees on honey, playing joyfully with one another. And again he felt that distance, the same feeling he had when he realized that he was different from everyone else, and that would never change. He wasn't going to fit in here, either.

"Come on now!" Filia tugged him down the hill excitedly, leading him toward the crowds of children below. He could hear them laughing, hear them chatting fondly in groups consisting of the closest of friends, feeling an aching loneliness overtake him. Bells chimed sweetly over the noise of their games, shattering his reverie. 

The bells must have signified that class was about to begin, he thought as the youngsters grabbed onto their parents and squished through the small doorway of the school, all pushing and shoving to get through. Filia's lovely blue eyes glittered with assurance as she guided him to the doorway with them. All of the dragonlings seemed to know her and buzzed with many enthusiastic greetings when they saw her. She beamed at them and replied back happily, making Valteria feel sheepish for staying silent. Why did she have to be so damn friendly? No, it wasn't her fault at all. She was simply likable in her own unique way that drew others in.

As he and Filia stood at the entrance of his classroom, he felt his heart sink. He had acted excited about starting school for Filia's sake, but... He always felt that nothing he did could ever satisfy Filia. It was as though he had to be perfect just to gain her approval. And he didn't ever want to lose the affections she offered him. No one else would ever learn to love him... And so he did the best he could to observe every detail of how the other dragonlings acted -- the ones that always seemed to know how to handle every little thing in a proper manner. Now all he could do was regret that he had done so. No matter how many times he tried to shut their voices out, he could still hear those cruel words they had said about him, the rumors that he wasn't supposed to have heard...

"Is he Filia's son?"

"Of course not! How could you even propose such a thing? Filia is the most decent dragonmaid in the village. She could have never given birth to a boy like that, especially without a faithful lover by her side. I heard that he was an orphan, so Filia took him in."

"I feel sorry for her. She deserves to be married with a son that has her own blood flowing through his veins. She probably only took him in because she felt sorry for him. I heard my parents say that all decent dragonlings are born out of love and not guilt."

"That goes without saying. Besides, he looks nothing like her. She's so demure and pretty... I want to be just like her when I grow up! But him... Have you seen his hair? It's rare to find Karyuohs that aren't blonde as it is, but I've /_never_/ seen one with the color of hair that he has."

"Maybe he isn't a dragon at all. He was an orphan, right? No Ryuzoku would ever abandon their child. He isn't one of us. He has no pride. He looks down upon his own self worth."

"Who would want him anyway?"

He just kept hearing them over and over in his clear, vivid memory. At first he had paid no heed to the words until the pains sunk in, when he realized that he didn't know who his father was, why he had never once called Filia mother, and why he held not the slightest resemblance to her. And when she had finally told him the truth, it hurt even more. It hurt because he truly knew that no one wanted him, except for Filia. She must have just pitied him or...

"Valteria-chan." Her voice broke over his tumbling thoughts, making him face her and pay attention. "Your teacher said that your seat is over here," she said as she pointed to the back of the room. 

He gazed around at his surroundings as she led him there, slightly dazed. Shelves of books lined every wall and open space where there were no seats. The chairs were set down in straight lines leading to the very back of the room. The youngest set of Ryuzokus, the dragonlings, were to sit up near the front while the older dragons were appointed to the seats near the back of the room. The arrangement was much like those held at the religious ceremonies, Valteria noted. In fact, if he could remember correctly, this very building had once been used as a sanctuary during the ancient wars.

When he was still a dragonet, Filia had read an assortment of stories to him about those times -- the times when the Karyuoh proclaimed war upon the Ancient Dragons. She told him that the sanctuaries were built of the strongest stone to be used as a place to hide from the fighting. Now that those battles were over, it was natural that these structures went to a new and better use. 

He tried his best to brighten his spirits as he seated himself at the far right corner of the dragonling section up front. He glanced back uneasily at the older dragonboys and dragongirls that were whispering amongst themselves away from the youngsters at the back of the room. Unknown shivers of fear passed through him. Why did he feel scared...

Filia helped him remove his cloak as he withdrew his academic books from his bag, and placed it on the back of his chair. He set the books precisely in his lap and shifted in his chair into the most comfortable position possible, although it still made his back ache as it was pushed against the hard wood. 

"I had better head back to the shop before Jiras-san and Grabos-san mess something up and cause some kind of catastrophe," Filia joked laughingly. "Now that you know the way here, I trust you to walk home by yourself. Have a good day, make lots of friends, and study hard."

"I will." His voice was obviously a parody of ebullience, but Filia acted as though she didn't notice. She pulled up his long bangs with her soft, gloved fingers and lovingly kissed his forehead. 

"I'll see you later, then." Valteria watched her as she glided gracefully to the door and then out of his view. He felt more alone now than ever. 

The instructor of the class was an old Ryuzoku elder and scholar. Though he was barely paying attention, Valteria thought he heard the teacher mention the name Saicharo, who had once been Filia's tutor and superior when she was still a dragonling. In fact, before she gave up being a priestess, Saicharo had positioned himself as a guardian for her. He had been one of the oldest dragons to ever live, they said. But he had died before Valteria was even born. He would never get the chance to speak with the wise Karyuoh who had enlightened so many others. 

The lectures and lessons of the day seemed to drag on for hours. Most of the hours were spent with each child rising, book in hand, to recite lines from religious books as clearly as possible. He could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on him when it was his turn to stand for the next section, making him more nervous than ever.

"'And Cephied spoke unto the other lords of light of the great battle, announcing his victory over Ruby Eye Shabranigdu. They rejoiced the sealing of the demon ceremoniously, oblivious to the stirrings of the dark lord using his remaining strength to create five sub-lords beneath him to serve out the evils of the universe after him. And at that same dark time, in another of the four universes, Dark Star began its own battle against the god of light, Volfied...'" Valteria felt his voice tremble on the last words. Dark Star... The word sent a small flicker of terror through him, then nothing. 

As he sat back down, Valteria sighed, insisting to himself over and over again, They're only dreams... They're not real!

~~~~~

He could feel the pain going from his cheekbone down to his chest, sizzling everywhere. The bruise left there felt like a dent in his face, hurting so much that he couldn't think, couldn't grasp any part of the reality around him. The pressure made blood ooze from his nose and mouth, shocks of unbearably warm pain running to every nerve in his body. 

"Go for it, Vistal!" Cheers from dragonlings, dragonboys, and dragongirls alike were smashing in on him from all sides, loud roars and hisses, making his ears ache like a drum being pounded upon. Why did it have to be him? Why did that dreadful helplessness feel so much like... those dreams...?

They hurt me because I'm different, Valteria thought bitterly as tears seeped from his closed eyes. I know that now. He fiercely bit his lip, suppressing a half-sob, half-scream as the fists kept coming down on him. His own fangs pricked the sensitive skin just beneath his lip, causing it to bleed. Filia... why won't you come for me...? Please... It hurts... He grasped desperately for breath, trying to concentrate on anything but the wounds staining his entire body. 

"You don't belong with the Karyuohs!" he heard a dragongirl snap indignantly at him. "Black wings... What kind of demon are you?"

"He was an orphan, right? So he was even abandoned by demons? How unusual!"

"Mazoku, that's what he is!" 

"That's right. If you weren't Filia's fosterling, I'd waste you," Valteria heard his opponent whisper dangerously into his ear. He couldn't bear to look at him, his eyes still tightly locked shut. "No Ryuzoku worth a salt looks down upon the value of his life enough to not fight back. Or do you just like to play being defenseless?" He received no answer, only a cold glare as Valteria opened his dark yellow-golden eyes, glinting like gold in the pale sunlight. 

"Forget him, Vistal!" a dragongirl yelled from behind. "You better hurry before someone finds us!" 

Valteria choked back a scream as the older dragonboy delivered one last punch to his stomach before reluctantly withdrawing. He could hear their little chuckles and giggles mocking him. It hurt so much... It felt as though his heart had been torn from his chest. 

~~~~~

After the footsteps of the retreating students could be heard trailing off into the distance, Valteria used the last of his remaining strength to lift himself up from the ground. His eyes drifted to the skies above him. It already seemed to be late evening, the sunshine fading into a crystal crimson, purple, and blue sunset across the horizon. Surprisingly, he found that he had just enough power left within his limp body to make it over the hill and through the village towards home. The local townsfolk stared at him in bewilderment. Their gazes seemed to burn into him, causing new tears to form at the corners of his eyes as he sprinted ahead. 

What would Filia say? What would she think? He didn't really care what anyone thought of him at this point. Why should it matter?

But it did...

As he slowly entered the shop, Filia and his two "uncles" were already shouting at him, demanding that he give them an explanation to why he was home so late. After noticing all of his scars, however, they didn't wait for an answer and immediately rushed him to the back of the house and closed up the shop to tend to them. He sat down on the couch as Filia ran a towel, wet with steaming water, on his cuts. The pain was nearly unbearable...

"How did this happen to you?" Her voice was clouded with worry.

"I fell," he lied in an obvious tone. Filia narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously.

"You can tell me later." She wiped the blood clear from his face, then removed his tattered shirt off of his injured chest. The heat stung so immensely that he felt consciousness beginning to slip away from him, although it didn't. Finally the pang subsided into a thrumming ache pulsing in his head. She ordered him to lie down with an edge of anger in her voice, but he could sense her sympathy in her gentle blue eyes. He obediently did as told and watched as a gleaming light grew at her fingertips. It dazzled his eyes as much as diamonds might to a miner. Magic -- the most intriguing thing he had ever seen and heard of.

"Where did you learn magic, Filia?" 

"From Saicharo-sama."

"Can I learn it?"

She didn't answer him, only gave him a stern look that forced him to look away from her. The light felt astonishingly relaxing over his scars, making him sigh with enjoyment, absorbing the power in. He wanted magic. All his life he had always been weak, always been helpless. Magic could change that...

After the flicker of light had engulfed each of the wounds that had tainted his skin, it dimmed from her hands little by little, finally dwindling down to nothing. Filia fell over exhaustedly beside Valteria on the couch, her face pressed against his locks of aquamarine hair. 

"Filia, are you okay?" he asked his foster mother in a concerned voice. He reached over and placed a comforting hand on one of her flushed cheeks.

"I'm fine... Just tired. I'm not used to using my magic, it's been so long..." she replied softly, her eyes battling to stay open. Jiras and Grabos stepped into the room just then and observed the scene with curious eyes. Grabos was the first to speak.

"We'll put Valteria to bed for you, Filia," he offered. "You look like you're about to pass out any minute now. Your face is so white!" 

"And I'll help you back to your room!" Jiras added chivalrously. She gladly agreed, and blindly grabbed for the red fox. He took her hand in his and helped her up, then led her down the hallways. The dragonling looked down at the floor, ashamed at himself for making Filia put forth so much effort. But at least he didn't have to explain what happened for awhile. 

Once in his room, Valteria changed into his pajamas and brushed his mangled hair, then climbed into bed. Grabos gave him a simple kiss good night before blowing out the candle on his desk and leaving. He lay awake for a long while, staring blankly at the bleak ceiling above him. He wished that he could have had the chance to thank Filia before she left. He felt like such a burden, a problem constantly weighing her down. And finally he could feel his thoughts thrusting him into a deep sleep, relieving him from his troubles. 

~~~~~

I sat silently at the window, watching the caliginous shadows of night leak down into the sunlight like spilt ink on paper. I felt the Mazoku's eyes upon me, but I didn't care. He hadn't said a word to me since I had awoken a few hours ago. I felt like I was in a dark closet, locked away from humanity, screaming at the top of my lungs for release, and no one even noticed. 

At the very least, all of the pain had gone away except for a slight sizzle of shock still running through my head. It was probably from growing that damn horn. I knew that I wasn't completely Mazoku because of it, though. He had left half of my Ancient Dragon blood within me, as though it would help ease my guilt. But it didn't help at all. I had betrayed my family, my friends, all of my kind. Gomen nasai, minna-san...

"Oh, come off it!" My ears shot up in surprise as his low voice met them. I hesitantly turned around. "Stop feeling so damn sorry for yourself." 

"I know... I chose this path..." I spoke truthfully, gulping hard. I didn't know at all how to speak to a Mazoku, and now I was one of them, so I decided it was best to change the subject. "Where are we?"

"In a fortress made for all of us Mazoku. I suppose that all the rest of them are having a party to celebrate the death of your race. We'll return to my own palace soon." He looked amused at my dull reaction. My face was clear of any emotion, dragon or Mazoku. I felt like an angel who was just forced into the clutches of an evil devil, but I was the one who let the devil catch me. 

"So this is where you've been." My master and I both looked up in surprise and noticed a dark figure leaning in the doorway. "Skipping out on the party, Gaav-chan?" A tall woman emerged into the candlelight of the small room, illuminating her slender form from the shadows of the room. 

Her long tanned legs ran up in fishnet stockings, showing off most of the flesh. It looked as smooth and as pleasurable as silk, setting off a desire to touch them. Her black skirt was so short that you could see her lingerie panties underneath. Her shirt was tight and short, showing off her breasts enough that she may as well not wear any shirt at all. Her eyes were like two twin amethyst orbs, peering out in cruel slits of violet. Her lips, dressed in pink lipstick, made them seem so seductive, like they were just waiting to be kissed, like candy waiting to be eaten. Her long blonde hair ran down her back, gleaming golden in the candlelight. She was tall too, despite the fact that she was wearing high heels, and perfectly slender. An intriguing woman indeed...

"Xellass, why are you here?" my master snapped irritably as she approached him, followed by another figure. My gaze drifted disinterestedly to him. His eyes were a complete match with the woman's. His hair hung perfectly at his shoulders in glossy purple strands. He was dressed in pure black with a long black cape drifting behind him at his feet.

"I was wondering why you weren't out with the others. Who's your friend?" Her voice rippled out in cruel, deep sounds that drew me in. Her beautiful eyes fluttered over to me, where I sat behind my master, whose name I had not yet gained. But she had called him "Gaav-chan." Probably taunting him. How did they know each other anyway?

"Go away, bitch," my master replied simply as he leaned forward on his sword, his eyes flaming with hate. 

"My, my! Aren't you in a bad mood!"

"Seeing you always puts me in a bad mood."

"Because I intimidate you with my power."

"What?" He clinched his teeth, holding back a threatening surge of rage. "You listen to me, Xellass, I have a higher position than you of Shabranigdu's generals. Nothing will change that. And you there," his eyes shifted to the one behind her, "don't think you have any power over a master like me just because you have powers from both the general and priest positions. You're crazy doing something stupid like that, Xellass. It's against the rules."

"I may do whatever I please. Xelloss-chan here will have more power than any one of your pathetic recruits." She smirked, seeming amused. Her companion merely continued to smile at my master and I, but I felt his eyes seeming to flame past Gaav at me.

"Oh, you think?" I wished he hadn't pointed the focus on me just then. "This new one will be able to defeat your little Xelloss easily after his training." Two enemies using their companions as weapons of choice... How typical.

"So, he's one of your new allies?" Her exotic eyes rolled over me. She purred. "Nice looking, but he'll never have any power over my Xe·loss." She then turned to the one behind her, grinning admiringly. 

"We'll see about that."

"Indeed we will. Have fun training something so useless. Come Xelloss, love. The rest of the party must be missing our company." She casually turned away from us, her lovely hair flowing behind her as she began exiting. Her coadjutor merely stood there, still staring at me for another moment.

"Nice meeting you. I'll enjoy our match." That voice... So cruel, rippling with playful, malicious pleasure, like melted butter... so sweet, yet tainted. Then he too turned his back on us and followed his strikingly gorgeous master out. She was breathtakingly enchanting, and yet she was an enemy of Gaav? 

He looked at me with calmer eyes, his fury slowly subsiding back to normal.

"Wish someone would damn her to hell, that Xellass. She has no right to call herself the 'Greater Beast.' Shabranigdu made a bad choice in creating her, and she made an even worse choice picking up that Xelloss. It's against the Mazoku rules to change humans into Mazokus. They're supposed to be purely created from the Lord of Nightmares' dark energies." I hardly understood a word of it, but he sounded so serious, as though it truly meant something important. I could only think of one thing to say.

"You changed me into a Mazoku..." I blurted out, almost wishing it weren't true.

"And I broke the rules."

I wanted to ask why, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Why would he do that to make something useless like me into one of his kind? Why me? 

   [1]: mailto:mana@rmci.net



	3. Fearful Child

Child of Darkness Ch. 3 Child of Darkness Chapter Three: Fearful Child By [Amanda Barton][1]

~~~~~

"I need you to know something, Valteria..."

He could sense it -- the pain relfecting within the crystal orbs of her eyes, the calm precision of her beauty fading along with the brightness of her smile. She set down her cup of tea on the table and reached across it to take his small hand in hers. She clutched at him as if to escape the terror tearing away at her, to ease the guilt she felt as she whispered to him the words she wished she could have forever kept secret. "I'm not your real mother..." 

For a moment he said nothing, closing his eyes against the vision of her face, her helplessness. Something within him felt as if it had been shattered, as if his innocence, his childishness, had just been stolen away from him, and the cruel realization that he would never be able to take it back occurred to him in a haze of tears. And more than ever he felt angry -- betrayed for the five years she had lied to him, for the five years she had kept the truth hidden away from him. For a moment he could scarcely breathe, an eerie silence falling upon the two of them. His hand trembled beneath her touch. 

He wanted to cry.

"What?" The dull tone of his voice made it obvious to Filia that he wasn't able to think of anything else to say. She knew that she would have to face this moment and she had prepared herself for it day by day. But now, as she sat face to face with Valteria, she found herself struggling against her own mind, forcing her voice to emerge from her throat. 

"I found your egg on my shop doorstep one day with this." She reached into the pocket of her cloak, her other hand still securely holding Valteria's, drawing out a strange object from therein, lying it down on the table before him. Valteria looked upon it for a long moment, lightly running his fingertips along the smooth surface of the wooden handle, to the strings attached to the two gleaming red spheres reflecting his own golden pupils back at him. Tearing his hand away from beneath her grasp, he stared into the emptiness of the spheres, lost within their void. He kept silent still, his thousands of questions left jumbled within his head like the flitting shadows of his dreams, his nightmares. 

And the words began coming all at once like the flames of the Ryuzoku's breath, his voice hissing with a fierceness he never knew he possessed. "They didn't want me..."

"Oh, Valteria-chan, I'm sure it wasn't that! Perhaps they were about to die and didn't want to leave you--"

"Why do you want me then?" He cut her off, staring out at her through eyes that frightened her. Bringing her hands together beneath her chin, she met his stare with an expression he never could bring himself to understand. Whether it was fear he sensed in her or the guilt of something greater than her own deceitfulness, he never could tell. 

"Valteria-chan..."

He didn't wait for another word, visions of his past insanity returning to him in a rush of flashing images -- the Ancient Dragons falling ceaselessly from the sky, the feeling of Gaav's skin when he had taken his life as a dragon and given him a new one as a Mazoku, the feeling of the dark magics he had received with the betrayal of his own kin. He could feel tears forming at the corners of his eyes and with them a sickening feeling pitting within his stomach, nauseating him. He stood up from the table, dashing away to his room, shielding from her the tears that had lulled him to sleep.

Even more so, the dream that had followed.

~~~~~

I held her to me, feeling her petite form trembling unbearably in my arms. Her hands were clasped together as in prayer, the thick lashes of her closed eyes stained by tears. And I could feel no pity for her, lost within the pleasures of my revenge upon her race, her people.

"If you're going to kill me, please do it quickly," she begged, her voice meek with fear. I smirked, clutching her wrist with the raw ferocity I felt.

"No," I said gruffly, slowly drawing her fingers to the light weapon I held. Her eyes flew open in alarm, her mouth gaping open. "I'll let you help me bring forth the dark lord that will destroy you." And I pressed her palm upon the weapon's surface, using my own hand to bring its emitting light closer to the orb that would soon open the gate to another universe, to the dark terror that lay beyond.

"No..." She shook with the force of her own sobs, her tears making her seem all the more delicate, like that of a porcelain doll. My hand moved closer. "Stop it..." Closer. "Stop it!"

And I could hear Lina's voice as she landed with the rest of her companions, calling out wildly to my captive. "Filia! /_Filia_/!"

It was all the better seeing Lina's inner pain, and I devoured it, savored it as I did when the Karyuoh priestess closed her eyes once more, crying out with an intensity that could have rivaled my own. "/_Stop it_/!"

Her words came as nothing more than an encouragement, and at last I brought the light to its destination, unlocking the path of Dark Star's awakening that I had sought since my master's death. Clouds formed across the sky, as grim and black as that of my own outstretched wings, and I threw her away with all the disgust I felt, letting her fall into the arms of the ones she had thought would prevent the terrible fate I had just brought forth. 

I bowed to the coming of the darkness, to the pair of crimson eyes looking down at me from within the clouds, and I smiled outwardly as it growled with a fierceness I myself could never manage. I focused on only him, feeling the distress of the dragon maiden without even looking at her. She was a fool trying to reason with me at the time of near-revival, telling me that she would take responsibility for the actions of the Karyuohs upon the Ancients, that I must stop before all was too late. Even she could never sway my intentions with the gentleness of her eyes, with the purity of her beauty. 

Still, I didn't understand her. She was fighting against me, defying the future I wanted to see, and yet whenever I looked into her eyes I could feel an overpowering sympathy in her, an emotion that kept her from attacking me in our few encounters. I was almost beginning to wonder if it was me she worried for or the sake of our world. But it didn't matter now.

She was staring at me with desperate eyes as I awaited Dark Star's approval of me, and all at once I felt justified, purged for all the sorrows her clan of dragons had bestowed upon me. Darkness gripped me just then, Filia's voice just barely audible over the screeching of the awoken Dark Lord. I had realized before that she didn't wish to fight me. But it wasn't until then that I realized she loved me.

And I didn't care.

~~~~~

The clicking of the toy mesmerized him as he sat awake in his bed, letting the memories flood back through him. It was strange. His dreams always had the same objects with the same names in clear, vivid images, though they presented no logical order and often repeated themselves from night to night. Never once had he heard of another with dreams like his, with dreams that would leave him shaken and confused the next day. He could feel every touch the man in his visions felt, could feel every ounce of his pain, his pleasure. And every time he roused from his sleep he would lie there, drowning himself in his own despair. 

Things had never been the same between Filia and him since she had told him the truth about his parents. They had grown all the more distant from each other, neither one exchanging nearly as many words as they once had. When he was younger he did nothing but spend endless hours with her, clutching excitedly to her cape as they made their way through town, shouting out as many greetings as she had. But all of that was gone now, crushed like the very center of his being. And he shut himself away from reality, creating his own world to protect himself from all the pains of living.

His demeanor showed nothing of the child his body resembled, locking away the sins of an adult. His voice, which had once chimed like that of a silver bell, had dropped low with his wilting expressions, soft like a whispering wind. His buoyance seemed lost within the vaults of his memory, lingering within the images of his horrid dreams he prayed would never return. 

But they always did, and lately he had found himself living an even greater nightmare. Troubles continued to weigh him down one by one -- his parents, his dreams, school... He couldn't stand it. He had come to accept that he was different from everyone else, but even that would never change the fact that others would never be as accepting and that they would continue to hurt him and taunt him until he could bear it no longer, to the breaking point that he was certain would come one day.

The day when he would end his own life.

It was something he often thought about, something that he knew the man in his dreams had often thought about. But every time Filia and his uncles were away and he had the chance to sneak into the kitchen, raising one of the cooking knives to his wrist, his fingers would quiver against the handle until it fell to the floor and he followed, sobbing out his grief into his hands. And he hated himself for it. He had always been weak, as vulernable as glass that would soon be broken. The older dragons of his school held absolute power over him, satisfied with the suffering inflicted by their wounds.

Sighing, he set down the toy on his bed stand, snuggling furthur into his blankets, his eyes closing in hope of a peaceful sleep he was nearly certain would not come.

~~~~~

The red fox snarled threateningly at me.

I stepped through the flames of the bleak devastation laid out before me, trying to ignore the corpses below my feet as I moved. It was a horrid sight. Their eyes had rolled back into their sockets so that only the whites were exposed, their mouths agape in visible pain, blood staining patches of their fur, making it all the more red. It was undoubtedly caused by some kind of meaningless war between the foxes of that region and another opposing species. So childish, so pointless... I understand that about battle now. It reminded me of the great battle between my own kind and the Karyuoh so many centuries ago... Before I was confined to an eternity of solitude without the company of my master... 

I focused on the young fox that sat before me then. His injuries seemed to be as severe as my own when Gaav-sama had first found me, a trail of scars marking his small body. But he was alive... Blood leaked down from where his right eye had once been, his fur matted down with the flow of blood coming down from his shoulder where he had been shot with an arrow. He yelled out in pain, his body shivering weakly as he looked up at me through his one good eye. 

I approached him despite his menacing expression, cautiously bringing my arm forward to remove the arrow from his flesh. He fell over, trembling as more pain befell him. I could do nothing but watch, reassuring him with few words. "I'll help you. You're going to live," I promised, patting him on the head. 

He never did know how much I understood what he was going through... 

My companion to follow, Grabos, was brought to me in the same way -- the hate of two opposing sides, by the destruction of war. Even a creature of his race, fierce and inhuman, looked so helpless when I first saw him, the same as when I met Jiras, blood dripping from his lost eye. And I knew then that he and Jiras were the same. And I was the same as them... 

We were all born from extinction.

"You don't want to die, do you?" I asked him as I stepped out of the shadows, exposing my form to him.

"It doesn't matter," he whispered with his remaining strength, his voice deep with the accent of his kind. Memories passed through me then, of the time that I said those exact words to my Gaav-sama before he gave me my new life.

"Don't you want your revenge?" He looked up at me in question. "Join me and I'll help to heal you. You can show them all -- show them how foolish they've been to fight each other without cause." 

He said nothing for a long moment, taking in my details before he queried, "Who are you?"

"I am called Valgaav."

They're both foolish servants and they're clumsy beyond belief, messing up even the simplest task I give them. They're hopeless and have more to learn than I can teach them. But when I look into those caring eyes of theirs, I begin to see them in a whole new way. A way that I believe is called friendship. I've never had any friends, not even when I was a full-blood Ancient Dragon. There has always been a part of me that turned me away from any kind of affection handed out to me. And the one time I accepted that affection, I had been hurt by it...

But in them I see a part of me that I never knew existed, a part of me that I don't even think was there when I was still with Gaav-sama. After I had been born to the darkness, I destroyed part of myself -- the dragon side of me, the real me. And I let myself... become one of them, a member of the race I once loathed so deeply that just hearing of them sickened me. And sometimes I begin to wonder who I am and if things will ever be the same, or be all right.

I shrug, dismissing the questions as easily as I always have. I don't even know why I'm thinking of my first meeting with the two of them. Perhaps it's because of the way Jiras snuggled up against me, his face smiling in his sleep as I lie here trying to drift into sleep. But I can't. I'm thinking about Gaav-sama and the way he used to lay beside me like this, holding me to him when he was still among the living. Grabos is at the other side of the room, snoring so loudly that I wonder how I've always slept through it before. Arumeis sleeps in his own quarters separate from mine, and has offered to give me a room apart from my two animal cohorts if I wished. But somehow, I always find myself declining his offers. I find a sense of comfort in their presence, yet it isn't enough. I want my Gaav-sama back, to feel him against me and hear his voice tell me that everything is going to be okay.

A part of me has died with him, and I know now that I can never take it back. It was the part of me that belonged to him and him alone, the part of me that had finally given in to his control, replacing my once rebellious nature. And I dream of him, clutching to the remanences of his soul that are still with me. Sometimes when I look at myself in the mirror, lost in the depths of my own loss, I can see every inch and corner of my mind. It appears as a hallway filled with paintings -- paintings of children surrounded by blood, covering their eyes with their innocent little hands as they cry into the silence. They scream out to someone, something to save them from the darkness that devours them, to save them from their own insanity. 

And there are other paintings, too. Ones of monsters and dragons tearing each other apart, the wind howling against their broken wings like the piercing song of a demon. The twisting hollow of hell awaits them as they fall to the ground, staining it a deep crimson. Their lifeless eyes have a certain gleam to them, looking somewhat glassy as they look out at me through the shades of paint. And it brings back the guilt, reminding me of the betrayal I had made to my own people, the very ones who trusted me to carry out their honor. 

~~~~~

He willed against the morning as its warm rays of sunlight peered in through his window, waking him as it had always done. He rose from the bed and dressed before Filia could come irritate him with her optimism of what the day would bring, and slowly made his way to the kitchen. Filia was already leaning over the stove cooking breakfast, looking up only long enough to give him a smile. Jiras and Grabos weren't even up and about yet, and for as long as he could remember, his two uncles were always sitting at the table before him, waiting anxiously for the first meal of the day.

"Well, good morning! It's nice to see you awake so early!" she said as cheerfully as ever, reaching into one of the cupboards, taking out a variety of different spices, cooking with merriment in her eyes. He was glad that she was feeling better after all of the energy he had drained from her the night before. He guessed that sleep must have easily remedied the power exerted from any sorcerer.

"I'm sorry about exhausting you last night," he murmured at last, sitting down at the table. Filia never turned away from the dish she was preparing, yet somehow he felt her stern eyes upon him.

"Glad to go back to school?" 

That was the last thing he had expected her to say. He didn't feel like thinking of a lie at the moment, he was too tired to think straight. So he settled for the truth.

"No."

Her curious gaze shifted from the frying eggs cooking on the stove to him. "Why?"

"I hate school. Everyone's a jerk to me."

"Is that why you were beat up coming home yesterday?"

"Yes."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing! Vistal did it!"

"Valteria, tell me the truth!"

"I am!" The frantic words burned as they emerged from his throat, the anger welling up inside of him. If Filia could no longer trust his word, then he would truly be alone. His contempt for her at that moment nearly drove him to tears, his heart aching unbearably within his chest. "You always want me to be someone I'm not! You're always trying to get me to come out and talk to everyone and be happy all the time like you are. I'm sure you wouldn't be so chipper all the time if your parents abandoned you on someone's doorstep!"

"Valteria..."

"You think that doesn't bother me? I have to think about it all the time! Do you have any idea how it feels to be told by the ones who were supposed to love you most 'I don't want you!?'" He stood up, holding back his tears as he voiced every thought that passed through his mind, everything he had yearned to say for so long. And despite the obvious hurt glimmering within her beautiful eyes, he could feel nothing but relief to have them released. He didn't care whether or not his words were those of a typical child anymore, didn't care about letting Filia hear only what she wanted to hear from him. As it was, she was already staring at him like some strange creature that had memorized the entire speech from the script of a play. 

"You want to know why Vistal beat me up, Filia? Huh?" He found himself yelling at her now, nearly hysteric. "The first thing we're supposed to learn is how to revert from dragon form to human form and the first step of that is how to grow your wings. When we all grew our wings, everyone had pretty golden wings..." He paused, glancing up at her as she gasped, then stepped back as if in fear of what he was going to say next. Of what she /knew/ he was going to say next. "I didn't have golden wings... They're ugly and black and feathery like some kind of deformed angel. I don't understand... Why am I different, Filia? I don't want to be this way!" And he began to cry, falling to the ground in shame. "I'm an outcast, aren't I? No one wants me, do they? Everyone at school thinks I'm some kind of demon. They think I'll hurt them, so they..." Sobs shook him as Filia dropped down beside him, her arms folding gently about his shoulders. "They hurt me first..."

"It's okay..." she soothed him, wiping away his tears with gloved fingers, her lips as soft as her hair, her skin, as she placed light kisses against his cheeks. She could taste the distinct flavor of his tears, their bitterness as coppery as that of blood on the tip of her tongue. She could feel his small form stiffen beneath her touches, tense as his own arms came around her. She held him there for a moment, both unwilling to let go -- as if for that single moment they embraced they would be safe from all the dangers of the world and nothing would ever be able to break them apart. Again she kissed his forehead, his cheeks, wishing that somehow it was the handsome man she had once known that she was touching instead of that of her own child, and that it could be something more than a parent's love. It frightened her. 

"I know that it must hurt..." she murmured, memories of the day she had bestowed death upon his first life flowing back through her, a river of regrets that would forever plague her. "But please be strong. I won't let you close yourself off from the world... To forget that you /_are_/ alive..." His face haunted her -- his intimidating eyes, the gruffness of his voice, the lines of war paint etched across his cheeks and stomach like the scars left from the war her own people had caused. "You mean so much to me and I won't let you drift away. Never, ever again..." He said nothing, his warm breath against her neck the only idication that he was still there in her arms. "Your wings are beautiful. They make you what you are. And I won't let anyone say that you're tainted." 

He shifted against her, his curious eyes boring into hers. "You know, don't you?" he whispered. "What I am, why I exist... You know, don't you?" She looked away, averting his gaze. "Tell me," he urged again and again, tightening his hold around her. "I want to know... I want to know what made me this way..."

It's my fault... Her lips quivered, the truth unsaid once more. Another sin she would have to face one day, another obstacle for her to pass through as time went by. And again she would trip over it and fall to the ground, mangled within the strings of fate that had been so cruel to her. Just like she had this time. I took your life and banished you to the Sea of Chaos... And the Lord of Nightmares sent you back to me... Please... don't hate me... She swallowed back the tears that threatened her, praying that somehow none of this would be real and that everything would be all right as it always had been.

"You won't tell me," Valteria concluded after a long moment. Slowly he backed away from her, the delicate features of his face contorting into something untouchable, unthinkable. "I want to know what it all means..."

"'What it means?'" she repeated questioningly, rising to her feet.

"One day I'll know," he told her as if in warning, "and I'll never be hurt again..."

"I won't let them hurt you!" she assured him as she pressed a hand to her breast, an oath she swore to leave unbroken. "I'll speak with the elders tonight and I'll make sure they never lay another finger on you. I won't let them!" He glared back at her in reply to her words, saying nothing even as she took one of his hands in hers and lifted it to her chest, letting it rest there. He could feel her heartbeat through the fabric of her dress, focusing on its steady rhythm as she spoke. "Stop looking at me that way!" She was begging, pleading now, her dark lashes fluttering closed over her eyes. "I don't want you to hate me... Even if we're not bound by the same blood, we're--"

"Entirely different," he cut in. "What I am, what I was... It's entirely different from you." He pulled his hand away, moving back in short steps. "We're not the same..."

And in moments he was gone, leaving her alone within the eerie stillness of the room. She clutched at her dress for comfort as she quietly wept, for his words and her own, convincing herself that he had been the one who was wrong. It hadn't crossed her mind until later how it must have felt for Valteria, and she cursed herself for the selfishness she never could rid herself of. In the end it was she that was always the child, and there was nothing she could do to change it. And it would always be the same between she and Valteria -- hiding away all the intricacies of their lives from each other until one or the other was driven to hatred and neither one would ever be able to comprehend the emotions of the other.

And as she finished crying her tears, embarrassed beneath the sight of Jiras and Grabos when they awoke, she had pretended that nothing had ever happened.

~~~~~

I hesitantly crept into the small room that Gaav-sama had pointed out to me, the flames of the corner fireplace warming my skin, making my body slick with sweat. My vision was obscurred beneath a thin veil of steam as I observed the details of the office. A cushioned chair sat at the center of the room beside a miniature desk, which held a wine bottle, a wineglass, and a cigarette. Not surprising for the headquarters of the Greater Beast. I had always imagined it this way, as dark and unknowingly seductive as she herself was. 

I had to admit that I was nervous. Even using the spell my master had taught me to make me invisible to the eye of any Mazoku, I had the disturbing feeling that somehow she would sense my presence and that I would fail. And that was one thing I could not do. I was still fairly new to the Mazoku race, and it pained me to over-use my newly given powers for long periods of time, but Gaav-sama seemed to have faith in me on my first assignment. My training was not yet complete, and I was determined to show him that I was becoming as skilled as any other Mazoku could be. Besides, sneaking into Xellass Metallium's fortress and spying on her to see what she was up to seemed to be interesting enough as a starting point.

If I was successful it would please Gaav-sama, and that was all that mattered. I had already become addicted to each of his touches, rough or gentle, and I craved them by night and day. I could recall the first months of my transformation into a Mazoku; the way that I would growl and shove him away if he even came near me. Whether he despised my obstinance or was amused by it, I could never tell. But he always showered his attentions on me nevertheless, disciplining me by the Mazoku methods of pain and pleasure. I couldn't help but be troublesome, and despite the tortures of his punishment whenever I chose to disobey, I found myself feeling something for him that was unfamiliar to me, something so confusing that at times I found it hard to breathe when he looked at me. And I wanted more of it...

As my thoughts drifted, Xellass entered the room, dressed in an even skimpier outfit than the one I had seen her wearing before; a completely white lingerie outfit that clung tightly to her beautiful form. The shirt was laced up with white strings, the rosy skin of her nipples showing easily through it, her breasts heaving with each breath she took. Her white-laced panties lay beneath, her fishnet stockings running up her legs like a tantalizing vine. Her exotic eyes rolled over the room as though she expected to find someone there, a smirk toying on her painted lips. It made me a little nervous, making me wonder once again if she could still sense my presence with her powers. She may have had a lower position than Gaav-sama, but I wasn't about to make a mistake by underestimating her. 

Xelloss followed attentively behind her, the silky locks of his hair gleaming against the candlelight. His eyes were opened, the clear slits of violet showing a darkness all their own, an undefined evil that lay within him, an evil that he hid behind an ever-smiling mask. An oddly ornamented necklace hung about his neck, his chest bare, revealing the fine contours of his muscles. A pair of black pants was all that showed of his clothing, its fabric nearly see-through. I was taken in by him, fascinated. He had a beauty completely different than that of his master, a beauty that was just as sweet, nearly compelling...

Xellass lied down before the fireplace, relaxing with a sigh. Her naked back lay exposed to Xelloss as he leaned down on his knees beside her, kissing a trail up her neck. She purred in encouragement and nodded toward the desk beside them. Grinning, he reached up and took down a small bottle from it, hastily removing the cap. He let the contents, a rich-smelling oil, leak down onto his hands, rubbing them together thoroughly. He set the bottle aside, proceeding then to rubbing the oil into his master's back, his skillful fingers massaging it in carefully. Xellass moaned as he continued up to her shoulder blades and shoulders, his fingers sliding easily along her perfect skin. He smiled a secret kind of smile, his fingers moving down to her ribcage, his lips descending upon her neck once again.

I shook my head, trying to break myself out of my trance as I watched them. Both were undeniably desirable and something within me wanted them with all its being. I gulped, trying to focus on their words as they began to speak.

"Xelloss, love..." she crooned, looking back at him. 

"Yes, Mistress?" 

"I have an assignment for you." Their lips met for a brief moment, tongues flicking between their mouths before they broke away. "I should have set you up for it awhile ago, but it didn't seem needed until now. You know Lina Inverse..." She paused. "You do know who Lina Inverse is, don't you, love?"

Xelloss nodded. "Luna Inverse's little sister, the one who defeated the dark lord Shabranigdu," he confirmed. 

"Ah, so you have been paying attention." She seemed impressed, her long-lashed eyes glittering back at him. "We believe that she is somehow connected with the Lord of Nightmares... She killed Shabranigdu by invoking the Giga Slave with the accompaniment of the Sword of Light... If our calculations are right, then she just may be one we would want to add to our forces. If she has Mazoku blood beneath that human shell, as her sister carried the blood worthy of the Shinzoku, then she would surely be more than useful to us." She purred, still entrapped by Xelloss's hands as she spoke.

"What is it you wish me to do, Mistress?" he asked her, stroking one of her golden locks of hair lovingly.

"I want you to follow her, observe her, gain her trust. Give her or any of her companions no indication of what you really are until the time is right, or everything will be ruined. Make Lina open to your suggestions, make her obey what you ask of her. If you succeed then we'll be able to use her in any way we wish." I memorized each word, reminding myself over and over that this information would be crucial for my Gaav-sama, that I could not disappoint him.

"Manipulation, eh?" Xelloss was obviously overjoyed with his new mission already, his grin widening. 

"Manipulation is the strongest weapon that the Mazoku wield, love," she murmured as she raised her head just enough to kiss her submissive's bowed neck. "You'll start immediately. I don't want your eyes to leave her for a second unless I summon you, understand?"

"Of course, my Mistress..."

~~~~~

Fingers traced lazy circles over his cheeks, capturing him between sleep and consciousness. Valteria groaned, his skin burning against the touches as they reached the tender points of flesh where he had been beaten once again by the older dragons. He squinched his already closed eyes tighter, his sleep-induced voice whispering out the remenances of the dream, nearly inaudible.

"Gaav-sama..." 

A smirk, a smile, the fingertips pressing against the fresh wounds until they began to bleed. "So you are remembering."

Golden eyes flew open, a gasp escaping the child's lips as he sat up. He turned his head this way and that, observing the quiet livingroom in alarm, finding nothing. Everything was as it should be, the same stillness that had been there when he fell asleep still lingering within it. Clutching at his shirt, he caught his breath, waiting for his heartbeat to slow down to a managable level. 

I'm hearing things again...

He scowled at his own vulnerability, rising from the couch with a moan. His entire body was aching, throbbing, and he bit his lip against it, keeping himself from crying out. He wished he could blame Filia for it all -- blame her for making him go to school once again and face the horrors that awaited him there. But his inner conscious always got the better of him, reminding him of her love for him, her endearment, and that it was the fault of only those that chose to hurt him. Filia protected him and cared for him, offered him a love so great that it rivaled that of a true blood relative. And yet in the end they always seemed to end up hating each other -- he because of her naive nature, and she because of his detachment. It confused him. But he loved her still, and wished that for just an instant she might be able to understand him, and that she would tell him all of the things that she kept hidden from him. That she would realize that inside he was no longer a child.

He sighed, reflecting on her reaction when he had returned home from school that day, the same as the day before. She hadn't been angered as she had been the first time, yet he could sense something deeper growing inside of her -- an overwhelming wave of worry that even her calm precision failed to hide. She had laid him down upon the soft cushons of the couch, her cool fingers running affectionately over his face as she reassured him over and over that she would go to the village elders and sort everything out. And he had listened, inwardly forgiving her for all the careless words that had been spoken that morning. He reached out to her, taking her slender hand in his, holding it there until he had drifted into sleep. 

The house was empty now, Jiras nor Grabos even there to disturb the eerie silence. He assumed that Filia had gone to act on her promise, taking his two uncles with her to speak on his behalf. But even with an order from the elders to keep the other children away from him, it would never change their feelings toward him, would never erase their hateful words from his mind. And it would never change the fact that he was too weak to fight back against them, either...

"She keeps so much from you," came the voice, taunting him from the shadows. "She ties you down and locks you to her. She is suffocating you." The figure emerged from the darkness, grinning mockingly. "Don't you want to escape?"

Valteria blinked, his curiosity over-weighing his fear as he looked up at the tall stranger with wide eyes. "Who are you?" His voice chimed like that of a bell, unknowing, unseeing. Soft laughter met his ears as the stranger came closer, leaning down to the child's eye level, settling himself on his knees. 

"Magnificent," he whispered in awe, staring intently into Valteria's golden eyes. "I'm so envious of you." Valteria gave him a questioning look, cocking his head up at the stranger. "Your youth, your beauty," he confirmed, pulling the child to him, breathing softly into his ear. Fingers laced through the strands of his aquamarine hair, warm lips resting on his forehead. "As you once were..."

Valteria tensed beneath his touch, tearing away frightfully as the memories of his dreams passed back through him, reminding him of the stranger's scent -- the spice, the mystery, the blood... "You're...!"

"I see that part of you remembers me. I'm honored." The amethyst eyes glimmered with mischief, looking out at him with the same dark charm they had always possessed. Valteria shook his head violently, screaming in denial.

"It's not true! They're only dreams!" He trembled with the force of his terror, his voice frantic. "They're not real!"

"Oh?" the stranger mused, waving a finger at him. "Still, I'm surprised. That the Lord of Nightmares would choose you of all people to bring back to life..." His eyes narrowed knowingly. "But you didn't want to come back, did you? You would have liked to let yourself drown in the Sea of Chaos with your dear Gaav-sama, wouldn't you?" He reached out, grabbing the child by the wrist with strong fingers, trapping him there. "And what will you do now? Go on being her little boy-toy?" 

"Don't!" Valteria shrieked, baring his fangs as he struggled against the Mazoku's hold, his helplessness maddening, intoxicating. He sobbed, fighting back against the kisses forced upon him. His mind was lost, whirling in all directions as he fell into the clutches of agony, writhing until his wrist was wet with sweat or blood. "Please stop! /_Stop_/!" Blood emerged from his throat with the force of his screams, the taste lingering at the back of his throat, sickening him. Xelloss merely smiled as he pinned the child to the floor, muffling his cries with gloved hands, his tongue darting across the side of his face.

"What will you do with those memories...?" And the light of the moon that shone through the window glinted against the knife that struck him, and everything began to fade away in a haze of melting objects.

Consciousness and sleep battled for control over him, weaving him between the dreams that would forever haunt him with the truth of his existence. And he could do nothing but surrender to the onslaught of pain overcoming him, his childish eyes closing in sweet release, falling into the nothingness that gripped him with icy fingers.

Until he heard her blood-curdling scream, shaking his entire being, tearing him apart. 

"/_Valteria-chan_/!"

   [1]: mailto:mana@rmci.net



	4. Dreaming Child

Child of Darkness Chapter Four: Dreaming Child By [Amanda Barton][1]

~~~~~

Hands covered my eyes, blinding me, beckoning furthur within the depths of darkness. I struggled against it, my breath catching in my throat, my hands writhing beneath the bonds that held them behind me. And I felt the stranger's lips on my neck, my cheeks, my lips, each of his touches an unfamiliar mystery. It left me with a thirst I begged to have quenched, a burning within me that I could not deny. And his seductive whisper floated over me like a tantalizing veil, enticing me, leaving me with no escape.

"Give in..."

And I did.

~~~~~

/_"Valteria-chan... Valteria-chan..."_/

Her words were just barely out of his reach, brushing against the very edges of his unconsciousness. He tried to reach out to her -- to her angelic pair of blue eyes looking out at him, to her honeysweet voice made all the more delicate with her concern. Yet she came as nothing more than an illusion, a hazy figure forbidden from the entry of his thoughts. She was nothing.

No, that cannot be... his thoughts were screaming, filling his head with dullened, childish echoes. She is my mother... His pulse pounded through his ears, threatening to break him apart at any given moment. He struggled between the endless stream of dreams that haunted him in this dark place, in this unending sleep that he could not rid himself of. Again and again the memories returned; of the golden scales, glinting perfectly in the open sunlight as they struck down the Ancients one by one; of the dragon maiden with her mysterious sympathy for him that had joined Lina Inverse to prevent the fate he most wished to see come into play; of the cruel yet loving crimson-haired master that had somehow calmed his rebellious nature and then faded away as quickly as he had come, leaving him in despair.

Master... he called out silently into the void, waiting for an answer that would never come, that would never purge him of his past sins. No, that's not me! It isn't! That's some other me! And he remembered the amethyst-eyed boy all over again. He could smell his scent, the blood, could feel his over-powering kisses devouring him. Xelloss... The name resounded itself, tracing back to the strange dreams in which he had seen him so many times. The knife was piercing him all over again and he felt himself crying out, sobbing piteously, wishing with all his might that somehow none of this had been real and that everything, even his everyday life at Filia's loving side, had been a dream and that he had never really existed at all.

Yet no such relief was given to him, the depths of his sleep dragging him into yet another dream. He struggled against it, helpless to the visions that lay beyond, to the truth that he could not fight.

~~~~~

The remaining hours of the night swept by in a haze of drunken laughter and mindless kissing, the Mazokus slowly disappearing from the party one by one as their attentions were drawn short by one another. Although the death of my race that day was something to be widely celebrated, it wasn't enough to sway the Mazokus' judgement of any that exceeded their own powers, or even matched them, for that matter. Gaav-sama kept me sheltered behind him for most of the evening, leaving me to my own thoughts, my own wretched sins, allowing me to dwell on the mysteries of my new kin that surrounded me. I didn't understand these strange creatures... That they were all of the same bloodlust, the same dark creations of the Lord of Nightmares, and yet they all opposed each other in some way or another. Even Gaav-sama was startlingly secluded from the others, keeping himself as well-hidden as he did me.

There were few that disturbed him, a number of them most likely sensing his rousing anger after having met with the lovely Xellass, the Greater Beast. I knew better than to speak of her or the dark-eyed boy that had been with her, as Gaav-sama had nearly strangled a few thickly intoxicated Mazokus that had dared to do so. A few had mentioned something about how "his appearance had changed since they had all last seen him," and a loud fit of laughter fell over the room. I hadn't understood a word of it, but it gave me a warning at what not to mention or venture to my new master before I began my "training," as Gaav-sama called it.

I shivered whenever I thought of that word, wondering what the traditions of these eccentric beasts would be. From the looks of things at the party, I could very easily assume that I most definitely wasn't going to enjoy it. I could faintly make out Mazoku masters whipping their servants to their hands and knees as they brought to them everything they requested, rewarding their limping submissives with light kisses and touches every now and then, and I was both anxious and devestated, wondering if one day that would be me -- that one day I'd be on my hands and knees, struggling to obey the orders of Gaav-sama with only a kiss or a pat on the head to reassure me of my fate. And I dreaded it. I realized at that moment I had not only given up my honor to my own kind, but that I had given up my freedom and everything that I had been to become whatever it was Gaav-sama would shape me to be. All to survive... And suddenly it didn't quite seem worth it anymore.

The Mazokus of the party continued to dwindle with each passing moment, though I failed to notice, already too entrapped within my own thoughts to care. I had lost track of Xellass and her overly-buoyant cohort sometime before, the two of them being the only ones that stood out to me in particular. They were both as adept at drinking and flirting as were the others, and more often than not, I would look over to find them sharing passionate kisses with both each other and any other Mazokus that they had managed to grab as they passed by. It made me more and more uneasy -- being surrounded by these beings, these demons that were so different than myself, that held so much desire for the pleasures of pain and hate. I was myself still, a Ryuzoku screaming and writhing within the body of a Mazoku.

There were few others that caught my attention, not even those that had crawled toward me in their drunken stupors, promptly striken away by Gaav-sama when they attempted to touch me. Yet there was one that interested me -- a little blue-haired beauty with full, blushing cheeks, her keen green eyes unseeing to all of those around her. She stayed only in the company of a particularly handsome master, his raven black hair falling beautifully around his eternally youthful face. She sat in his lap, the two of them kissing, long and sweet, whispering inaudible words into each other's ears. There was something distinctly different about them than that of Xellass and Xelloss, though I couldn't quite identify it. I watched them every now and then, losing sight of them as quickly as I had the Greater Beast as the party began to die down and eventually end.

I felt Gaav-sama lifting me up as the last of the Mazokus seemed to have taken their leave, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to support me as he teleported us elsewhere, a mere blink of my eyes revealing new surroundings when I opened them once again. It was another grand mansion of some sort, though far more tasteful and quiet than that of the party's location, its stone walls and floors a dillusion of flickering shadows against the torch light lining the long, elaborate hallways.

"This is where you will stay from now on," he said firmly, keeping a strong hold on me as he brought me through several more rooms and doorways, his intense midnight eyes focused on all that lay before him as he moved. I strode beside him with little resistance, much to my own amazement. He led me futhur until we reached a room made all of white marble, a large porcelain bathtub at the room's center, wooden shelves holding up several different bath items lining the walls. Gaav-sama stepped away from me, going to the side of the tub, filling it with warm water.

I wasn't sure what to think then. I merely stood there, staring at him as if I didn't know what was to follow, my still bare chest perspirating slightly against the heat of the steam arising from the water. When at last he turned to face me, the bathtub now filled, he indicated for me to take my place within its waters, as I had guessed. It was for the best, I knew. My long hair was still tangled by the sand of the dunes back at Dragon's Peak, and my pants were still torn where the cuts and wounds had once been. Yet their healing came with the wretched blessings of becoming the Mazoku I now was, and I found myself grateful for it in spite of myself.

I did nothing for a long moment, waiting for him to leave me so that I could bathe as he deemed. I ought to have known better after the sights of the other Mazokus I had glimpsed at the party, but still too naive was I to see the passion in those damnable midnight blue eyes, to see all that he had planned for me. And, frustrated, Gaav-sama finally stomped over to me, taking hold of one of my wrists to pull me towards the tub. My mouth hung open in some state of shock, my voice refusing to respond even as he began to speak.

"You are Valteria no longer," he said to me. "You are mine now. And I'll make you what I want." I felt one of his hands stroking the strands of my long hair, the other at the waistband of my pants. And in that moment I realized a fear, a buried horror cinched within me that had yet to be revealed even when I was on the verge of death back at Dragon's Peak. I found myself wishing for that untimely death, to be released from this utter display of helplessness as he stripped me and guided me down into the water as he bid. By then I was nothing more than a puppet drawn by his strings, taken in by a control I had never known.

"You're shaking..." His voice was flat and stern, causing me to shiver all the more. I could feel a washcloth draw up over my skin, cleansing it of the dirt and sand of the previous battle, and could feel its warmth spreading all through me, could feel my heart beating faster and faster with its every touch. I felt as if I would die; as if this domineering presence would break and destroy me, that my freedom as a dragon was no more and that I had become nothing more than an object for him to shape to his desires. "What is it that you fear?" Calloused hands ran down the smooth contours of my chest, his voice mocking me, speaking dangerously close to my ear. "I have given you a new life to live... And it will be for me."

He drew back a bit then, much to my relief, though it wasn't long before he returned with a bath bucket, filling it with the bath water before proceeding to dump it over my head, wetting the aquamarine bangs of my hair down into my eyes. Sweet exotic scents intoxicated me as he began rubbing some kind of oil into my hair, though I dared not look back at him. I stared down into the bleakness of the water, the feeling of my own self-loathing, my own hideous contempt for this person that had saved me from the depths of Hell growing stronger with each passing moment.

"You are Valgaav now..." came his whisper, his lips placing dreadful little kisses against my cheeks and forehead, his fingers gently grazing over the horn atop my head. It was unbearable. I wanted to curse him for what he had done to me, for having manipulated me into betraying my own kind. I wanted to be able to blame him for all the sins that were my fault alone.

I wanted to kill him.

A scowl arose from my throat, my body taking instinctive movements away from him to the other side of the bathtub. And before I could distinquish him in his speed, he was behind me again, slapping me hard across the cheek. The flesh burned beneath his touch, issuing a growl from me in turn, my anger rousing, any sense of loyalty or meekness I had first felt in his presence vanishing as quickly as it had come. I didn't have to do this. I didn't have to bear it if I didn't will it so. And I wouldn't.

Not even my own modesty held me back from standing then, the scented waters of the tub coveting me only from my feet to my knees at my full height. I tried to grab hold of him, reaching out blindly for his orange cloak in all my madness. Without even the slightest change of composure, he vanished just out of my fingers reach, reappearing behind me at the other end of the tub in mere seconds, his expression twisting into an all-knowing smirk, challenging me furthur with his actions alone. I clenched a fist at my side, holding myself back from lunging at him once more. It would only result in the same outcome, in the same weakness and humiliation.

Defeated, I sank irritably back into the water, glowering out at him with all the disdain I could muster. My body had yet to be awakened to its new powers as a Mazoku, still in the process of settling into its transformation. Even gathering every last ounce of my strength would not be enough to prove myself as an opponent to him. Moreover, it would only cause me to appear all the more pathetic to him. He stared at me for a long moment, saying nothing as he observed me. My head was in too much of a mess to even begin imagining what he might be thinking at that point. I was tired now, worn away by the previous events of the day that I had yet to fully comprehend. And yet somehow I was still unwilling to give in to him. I wanted my loyalty to be earned, for my devotions to be won over in the midst of all my struggling. I wouldn't give myself to him as easily as he might have first guessed. At times I became convinced that it was my rebelliousness that had sparked his interest in me in the first place.

He came towards me again, his face unreadable then. There always seemed to be a remote seriousness to his glances, a feeling that emanated from him in accompaniment to the distinct lines of his eyebrows and cheekbones. There was something strangely handsome about it, something wonderous in the aspect that one could always expect that everything he said held the upmost truth. I might have felt the same then, even having just met him, if it hadn't been for my own stubborness, for my desire to remain unyielding to him.

"Good. Now stay still." His voice lingered behind me, his hands reaching for my hair once again. He ran his fingers through the knotted strands, causing me to wince in kind. It wasn't long before he ceased, taking hold of my chin to tilt my face this way and that, observing it from all angles. It hadn't occurred to me how much different I must have appeared after the dirt had been washed away. I gulped, my previous nervousness returning at the pit of my stomach. He grinned approvingly at me, tugging at my arm to lift me back up from the tub.

I moved with him, stepping back out onto the cool tiles of the floor, my feet wetting them beneath their touch as I padded across the room. Gaav-sama snatched up a nearby towel, keeping it well out of my grasp as he began to dry me. I couldn't contain the blush that crept up to my cheeks then. He rid of each droplet with a preciseness that was startling, moving from my back and hair to my arms and chest, then downward to my legs. I might have tried kicking him away if I hadn't been so startled by what he was doing, so sensitive to the soft brushes of his hands and the slow, languid strokes of the towel.

I averted my gaze from him, knowing all too well that I would flush even more at the sight of him as he performed such actions upon me. Either he failed to notice or simply didn't care by the time he had finished, once again taking hold of my arm to lead me onward to another room. I stumbled after him, my bareness dizzying me, leaving me cold and shaken, too far gone now to comprehend where I was being taken or what might happen there. The next thing I knew, he had let go of me, drifting away into the shadows of the chamber we had entered just moments before.

Dazedly, I waited, shifting back on my feet every so often to keep myself from falling over. My legs throbbed and stiffened with each sounding of his movements, each indication that he might emerge from the darkness and come back to me, threatening to fail in their stability should he do so. I was able to contain myself, however, keeping my legs well upright when he returned at last, a bundle of cloth heaped within his arms. Clutching my naked right shoulder with his free hand, he brought forward a mirror, its glassy surface reflecting back the dreadful little thing that I was -- a lost, confused boy with the succulent blood of a demon, his heart siding with neither persona in all its hate. And though I was clean now, the sand and remenances of blood all washed away, I had never felt so dirty. Dirtied by his hands, by his kisses, by the taunting looks of the other Mazokus I had met that night. But even more distinctly I was tainted by my own thoughts, by my own horrid state of mind. Gaav-sama was not the one that had ruined me. I had done it to myself.

The clothes he had been carrying fell to the ground with an audible rustle, his arms enfolding all around me, his muscled skin musky and sweet against me. His palm pressed at the small of my back, his wild red hair falling against my shoulder as he kissed at my neck, the sharp edges of his teeth grazing against the skin. I closed my eyes, fighting back the tears that I felt flowing all through me, the tears that were for him, for this man that had saved me from my own coffin to personalize into his own lovely toy.

And then his hand was replaced by something else -- a soft fabric that came around me at the shoulders, hanging loosely just above my belly button. My eyes flew open, gazing into the mirror at the garment he had placed upon me. The shirt itself was sleeveless, cut short to reveal my stomach and the center line of my chest, its edges outlined in red. Gaav-sama's hands ran along my sides, causing me to shiver before he took hold of the fine crimson laces on either side of the shirt and began to tie them together one by one.

I was more surprised by his gentleness than by the outfit itself, his hands warm and delicate as he continued to dress me. I stepped obediently into the undergarment that he placed at my feet, grateful to cover myself with it despite his order let him deal with it all. It was like being a child all over again -- only allowed to be bathed and dressed at his hands instead of my own. And in a sense I was a child then, a frail Mazoku child just beginning to learn to walk again, to live again.

Slowly he drew up a pair of white silk pants to my waist, tying its red drawstring once there. He took each of my arms then, spreading them out at my sides to form a sort of band at both of my wrists from thick white laces. When he had finished them, they seemed like two twin bandages that one might put on to support their arms upon shattering them. The same procedure was done at my ankles in place of socks, and a shoe was slipped over each foot once he had done so. Then came the cape, its outer material a midnight blue that could have rivaled my Master's own eyes, its inner material as red as that of blood, the colors a match with those of the shirt. He tied it securely around my neck, its length falling most unusually short, just above my waist.

He turned me around then, looking me over again and again as if lost in a dream, designing me to his own perfection with each adjustment of the outfit. I knew he was satisfied when he leaned forward to kiss my cheek, guiding me to a single chair at the other end of the chamber to sit. Yet another guilded mirror had been placed on the wall across from it, its golden frame nearly blinding me against the candlelight. But I stared into it nonetheless, into the mirror and at myself. The clothes seemed to give me a small sense of pride back, patching me back together from the broken little toy that I was certain I was soon to become.

Gaav-sama stood behind me, reaching into the pocket of his orange cloak for something, something that remained unseen to me as he drew it out. It was no difficult task to identify it by the sounding little snips at the back of my neck, and the falling of my long, tangled hair through the mirror's reflection, however. I gasped, forcing myself to remain still in spite of myself. How could I have allowed him to do this to me? To sculpt me to his will and sit by like a silent coward as he stripped away every bit of self that I managed to hold on to after the attack of the Karyuohs. I think I might have sobbed then, an audible cry that brought a visible grin to his lips. I was a doll in his hands.

By the time he had finished with me -- my hair falling at my shoulders beneath a black bandanna he had tied around my forehead, the remainder of the hair styled upwards in great spikes, a few solitary hairs falling over the bandanna and into my eyes -- I realized that Valteria was gone. The Ancient Dragon that had only wanted to fight for the justification of his race had ceased to exist in only a few short moments. And I had become his.

He took me into his arms, my cheek pressed at the nape of his neck like an endearing little child, my eyes half lidded in exhaustion. I belonged to him, I realized that then. I had to live up to the image that he had created for me and be what it was that he wanted. And although at that moment I was too tired to care, something at the back of my mind was still resisting him, holding the assurance of furthur protests soon to come in the duration of my training.

Gaav-sama turned his face to me, his mouth catching hold of mine in a rough kiss. I groaned from behind it, a small, pitiful sound that mortified me. His tongue traced the line of my lips, forcing its way through inside of me, and I thought that I would die. I writhed within his hold, my teeth biting instinctly at the intruder with the viciousness of the dragon I once was. He sighed contentedly, drawing away in a blissful swoon that disgusted me. And then I felt it, the languid swipes of his tongue at the sides of my cheeks, drawing across fine lines of blood from the wound that I had inflicted on it. I trembled against him, a single tear falling down from my closed lids in all of my sorrow, all of my inner pain that I felt when a final realization came crashing down to me in great tides.

There in his arms I was Valgaav.

~~~~~

The clock moved in lazy circles, its hands languid and slow with each passing second that it ticked away. Filia stared at it as if it were some kind of beast, her hands clasped together in the lap of her pink gown, her blue eyes unseeing to its numbers in a mirage of tears.

Three days.

How could it be possible for such a shallow wound to condemn him to a constant sleep for three full days? Her healing powers alone had cleared the inflictment from his skin as quickly as it had come, and still... Still he refused to wake. And he lay there, the strewn remains of a frightened child across the embroidered pillows and sheets of his bed, pale and sickly against its brilliant colors. And there was nothing that she could do, nothing that might free him from the prison of sleep that trapped and caged him. She could only sit by and watch, praying to the higher gods that somehow he would be all right and that it had not been her own poor judgement in leaving him alone that night that had caused such a thing to happen.

Despite Jiras's and Grabos's constant reasurrances that there was nothing that could have prevented the events that night, her own self-loathing continued to eat away at her. If only she hadn't argued with him that morning... If she had done something about the other school children sooner... The possibilities of everything that could have taken place haunted her, plagued her, whispered poisonous little words into her ears with each passing minute. Her Valteria, her beloved child that she had killed with her own hands and been blessed with all over again, had been sentenced to the same life of misery as before.

If he wasn't going to be reborn as my own to be happy... she wondered again and again, ...then why, /_why_/ did the Lord of Nightmares bring him back?! Why must she do this to him? Why is she being so cruel to us?

And the tears would flow all over again, and a neverending cycle tore at the very edges of her being. Valteria was not hers to hold and love and treasure as she had once dreamed when he was still a hatchling. He was only the dead leaf echo of the valiant man she had known so long ago. Still, even after all this time, he could not be hers. Not as a lover, nor as her child. He was alone, a constant victim in the world to everyone that caught sight of him, of his seduction and his beauty. He was one to be owned by everyone except himself, to be owned by anyone but her.

I hate you... She fell over him, her head to his chest as he took in each childish breath, her golden hair fanning all around them as she clutched to him and cried, calling out to him for an answer that would not come.

~~~~~

"Stop it..."

Her voice came in shuddering gasps, her eyes pleading with me for some kind of release -- a release from her efforts, from the dragon elders that pretended to adore her in all her clumsiness, from the life that she had been trying so desperately to save all this time.

"Stop it!"

I longed for the terrific disaster of it all, for the grand explosion emitting from her, Lina instantly elimanated, as well as everyone else for miles around.

"/_Stop it_/!"

And I threw it away, and fell into the arms of the oncoming Dark Lord that rose instead of her own. And the distinct sense of hurt that shone out from her eyes threw something in me -- my fulfillment, my redeement, my own disgusting justification. She meant nothing to me.

And still I could tell that she didn't know why.

~~~~~

"Did you do as I ordered?"

"Of course, Mistress."

"And you say that he remembered you?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"And the dragon priestess did not see you?"

"No, Mistress."

"Excellent. The we may proceed as I had planned."

"Of course, Mistress. Although I would think such cruelty is coming as quite a shock to him."

"I doubt that. If he truly has retained those memories from the past, then he should have learned by now that a truly happy, undisturbed life does not exist."

"You are an evil woman, you are."

~~~~~

The words seemed to echo somewhere at the back of his mind, fading away into an endless void, into the endless darkness from whence he had been born. And all at once he couldn't breathe, the air squeezed out from him in painful grips of his heart, his body thrumming with an energy he had never known. And with a great cry, his scream etched across the silence, he ripped open the threads of the dream and watched them fall apart all around him.

"Gaav-sama!"

Valteria woke.

   [1]: mailto:mana@rmci.net



	5. Current Status

Current Status:  
  
Hello, "Child of Darkness" readers! I know that it's been a /long/  
time since I updated, so I figured I'd post this little message so   
that you all know that I haven't given up on this story. I've been  
really busy lately, and the few chances I've had to write have been  
for different stories. I promise that I /will/ finish this fanfic  
and hope to have the next chapter up soon. All of your reviews have   
been very motivational to me, so thank you.   
  
I'm sorry for the delay! For more current status on this story, please   
visit my website at http://www.geocities.com/fairy_mana 


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